


A Man He's Despised

by thomasjeffersonsmacaroni



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, details in the summary, not your typical soulmate au tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-18 18:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8171380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thomasjeffersonsmacaroni/pseuds/thomasjeffersonsmacaroni
Summary: Alexander Hamilton was sure of three things.Soulmate AU based on this post: http://chekhovsgum.tumblr.com/post/139383734894My first Jamilton/Hamilton fic, please be kind :)





	1. Chapter 1

Alexander Hamilton was sure of many, many things, but there were three that were the pillars of his personal life.

Number one: the name _Charles Morgryn_ was written on his left wrist, and the name _Thomas Jefferson_ was written on his right.

Number two: _Charles Morgryn_ was written in cursive, cursive that flowed smoothly and gently over the canvas of his skin. Sometimes, during a long night at work, he would turn his wrist over and admire the soulmark, the way the loops of the h and the l and the g were bigger than they probably should be, but that did nothing but add to the exquisite, flowing beauty of the mark. He would trace his finger over the big M, rubbing it, smiling as he watched it flow into the o, then the rough r, then into the beautiful g and the r and the y and the n, finishing off with a pen stroke that probably flowed longer than it should have. It reminded him of the man itself, and how he would hug Alex from behind while he was working, and kiss him softly and for a long time in the place where his neck and his shoulder connected, staying there until Alex turned off his computer and kissed him back. Charlie was a nice break from the complex politics of the White House, a break that Alex barely knew was possible until he met the man that he was sure, so sure, was his soulmate.

Number three:  _Thomas Jefferson_ was also written in cursive, in the same handwriting as his other soulmark, a fact that Alex hated almost as much as he hated the man himself. The huge, arrogant J followed by the slow loops of the other letters reminded him of the Secretary of State's idiotic political opinions, of the way he strutted through the White House's offices in head-to-toe magenta with a fucking  _pimp cane_ , of his holier-than-thou attitude during cabinet meetings and collaborations that were reluctant on both sides. Alexander had had to suffer through him for two years as they worked on the same staff under President Washington, and he had hated every second of being on the same planet as the purple wannabe French asshat.

Even thinking about him exhausted Alex’s brain, so he turned over in bed, hiding both of his wrists, and went to sleep.

 

In the morning, Alex’s alarm rang at 4:30, the same way that it always did. When he was first accepted for the White House office after months of hard work, Alex was slightly turned off by the early start time, but over time, he had grown used to waking up early. His boyfriend still complained, though; even now, as he changed into his typical suit and tie, he could hear a soft grumble from the bed. Good-naturedly, he leaned over and kissed Charles on the cheek, smiling as the taller man made a sound that was a mix between frustration and contentedness.

“Love you too, babe,” Alex said as he tied his tie and went downstairs. He scooped his phone up off of the counter – Charles had convinced him to leave it there so he didn’t have the temptation to check it during the night and lose sleep – and read through his text messages.

_Turtle Dude: Hey, might be a bit late picking you up, Herc had a thing that he had to get to early in the morning. I’ll still be there though :)_

_MANUMISSION ABOLITIONISTS: [Horse Fucker sent a photo]_

_MANUMISSION ABOLITIONISTS: Horse Fucker: HOLY SHIT GUYS I SAW AARON BURR AT THE CLUB LAST NIGHT_

_MANUMISSION ABOLITIONISTS: Horse Fucker: HE WAS WEARING A SPARKLY SUIT_

_MANUMISSION ABOLITIONISTS: Horse Fucker: WHY IS AARON BURR AT THE CLUB WEARING A SPARKLY SUIT_

There were about thirty other messages in which Herc yelled about Aaron Burr and his sparkly suit and Laf and John reacted with appropriate surprise.

_Too Pure For Us: Sorry, can’t come to our thing next week, last minute orphanage stuff popped up :(_

_ThoMESS JefferSUCK: No you fucking dipshit we can’t just remove Section III Paragraph b that bit is a pillar of your shitty bill_

_[ThoMESS JefferSUCK sent a photo.]_

_ThoMESS JefferSUCK: What the FUCK is this sentence over here it makes zero sense did you even proofread your last draft before sending it to me_

_ThoMESS JefferSUCK: HAMILTON ANSWER ME OH MY GOD_

Alexander rolled his eyes. That last text was sent at two in the morning, when he was peacefully asleep, and Jefferson should have been as well. As he waited for his toast to pop out, he typed out replies.

_To: Turtle Dude: Okay, I’ll be waiting :)_

_To: MANUMISSION ABOLITIONISTS: Okay I was going to say that he’s been spending too much time around the dickhole we call Thomas Jefferson but there is NO WAY that even Aaron Burr would willingly wear a sparkly suit under ANYONE’S influence_

_To: Too Pure For Us: That’s fine, can you do the Wednesday after that?_

_To: ThoMESS JefferSUCK: Fuck you Section III Paragraph b is the shittiest idea that I have ever seen also that sentence is integral to my argument as a whole_

_To: ThoMESS JefferSUCK: Also stop texting me at two in the morning expecting me to reply_

As he ate his toast and milk, he checked his emails. Nothing important was waiting for him, just a reply from Jefferson with the subject line “listen here you fucking dickhole,” updates on cabinet meetings, and a reminder from John Jay to look over the essay that they were working on together.

John Laurens sent him a text saying “Here” at 5:30, 10 minutes later than he usually did. _So that’s what he calls late,_ Alex thought, relieved that he didn’t have to wait longer. He walked through the door and sat down next to his friend, grinning.

“So what was the thing that Herc had to get to?” he asked.

John switched the gear to “Drive” and backed out of the driveway before responding. “Oh, he didn’t tell you and Laf? President Washington wanted to talk to him about his application to join the FBI.”

“The _FBI?_ ” Alex asked, incredulous. He knew that Herc was applying to work in the government like him and Laf, but the _FBI_? Herc had _never_ mentioned that.

“Yep. He was listing the espionage work that he did when…” John continued his story as he drove down the road toward the White House. As he talked, he kept one hand on the steering wheel, the other waving around and gesturing, a habit that he had when talking about things he was excited about. Alex occasionally saw a glimpse of the name written on his arm: Hercules Mulligan. On the other, he knew, was written _Charles Lee_ , and he would have been surprised if Charles’s own wrist wasn’t covered to the elbow in names. The man was such a fucking asshat that it was impossible for him to have only one enemy.

“Well, here we are,” said John, parking in front of the White House. “Good luck at work. See you in a couple of hours.”

Alex briefly said goodbye to his friend, clapping him on the back, then walked in through the door and made his way to the elevator with the plan to stop in the break room to get coffee before going up to his own office. The break room was on the third floor, and the elevator stopped on the second one to pick someone up. Alex was relieved to see that it was Angelica Schuyler, his casual friend who worked in PR, on the phone with someone. She gave him a wave and a smile before pressing the button for her floor.

Ten minutes later, Alex was in his office, passionately typing out an essay of an email to Thomas Jefferson about why Section V of his in-progress bill was integral to secure Congress’s approval, occasionally sipping his coffee as he looked over and revised the email. His entire day was spent on that passionate email exchange, with the occasional break for other works in progress and the series of essays that he, John Jay, and James Madison were working on.

At the end of the day, he got another text from John Laurens.

_Turtle Dude: Be there in 15 with MEXICAN_

_Turtle Dude: Sorry but there was a sale at Chipotle and I couldn’t resist_

_Turtle Dude: Got you two soft shell tacos you can eat in the car_

Alex grinned and typed out a text.

_To: Turtle Dude: Okay lol_

Another text came just as Alex was leaving.

_[ <3 Ray of Sunshine <3 sent a photo.]_

_< 3 Ray of Sunshine <3: Saw this adorable dog and thought of you <3 I love you & can’t wait to see you when I come home <3333_

Alex beamed even wider at that. Charles always sent him cute texts like this, and each one made him love his boyfriend just a tiny bit more.

_To: <3 Ray of Sunshine <3: Aw, thanks <3 Love you more than words can say, just don’t leave me for that dog ahahaaaa_

Would Charlie leave him for a dog? Sometimes Alex pondered this question long and hard.

As Alex arrived on the first floor, holding his things, a tall, dark figure with curls and a bright – was that _pink_? – outfit came out from one of the hallways, calling his name. Alex sighed loudly, making sure that the man could hear him, before stopping and turning around.

“What do you want, Jefferson?”

“Are you leaving?”

“Yeah, it’s the end of the work day. Why?”

“I wanted to talk about your absolutely ridiculous Section V a bit more. I really don’t think-”

“No, shut up, fuck you, I don’t want to hear this, I’m going home, I’ve had enough of your bullshit for one day. We can talk about it tomorrow.”

“Okay, fine, but I read that last email of yours, and let me tell you, I wonder how in the world President Washington chose you for his staff. I mean, I get that he’s moderate and all and wants his staff to be mixed between the parties, but I didn’t know that included having his staff mixed between IQ levels. Did you bribe him or something?”

Alex’s eye twitched slightly. He didn’t talk about the struggles that he went through to work his way up to where he was now, and very few people knew his life story, but he _certainly_ did not bribe the president. He said none of this, though, and instead shot back, “Wow, such a big speech for little baby Jefferson. Who’d you hire to write that for you, and how many days did it take them?”

Jefferson rolled his eyes behind his glasses. “Your comebacks are shittier than your political policies, and that is saying _a lot_. Talk to you tomorrow, Hamilton.”

Hamilton sighed in frustration. _God, what an asshat._ “Talk to you tomorrow.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'm so sorry I probably fucked up all the political shit I have very little interest in and knowledge of politics)  
> This is dedicated to all of you who left kudos on, commented on, and/or bookmarked this little fic. Each time someone does that, it makes my day a tiny bit brighter. :)  
> Trigger warning for a panic attack for this chapter and most likely future ones as well. I'll be putting the passage in [brackets] and leaving a chapter summary at the end of each chapter if you don't want to read through that. Love all of you <3

When Alex walked into the car, John was already waiting with a taco in one hand and a burrito in another. He handed the taco to Alex, put the burrito away, and turned the key to start the car.

"Does this have guacamole?" Alex asked him.

"Of course. What kind of monster would I be if I didn't ask for guac?"

"I don't know, a monster that wants to save money?"

"You know what, you're right. Pay up."

Alex looked at him with mock horror as he stuffed half of the taco in his mouth. "You absolute _animal._ "

John grinned in false devilishness. "Thanks."

Alex practically swallowed the taco in a matter of a minute before speaking.

"Don't you owe me a dollar from when we were in college and you really wanted that root beer from the vending machine?"

"Alex, that was, like, ten years ago. How the hell do you still remember that?"

"I wrote it down somewhere so I wouldn't forget. Now I guess our debts cancel out. So we're good."

John snorted. "If you say so. Oh, my phone is ringing. Can you get it?"

Alex listened for the sound of the vibration and soon found the phone in the car door, grabbed it, and looked at the screen - it was from BIG DICK RICK, which was what Herc was saved as in John's phone - before answering. On the other end, Herc was, in classic Herc fashion, speaking so quickly that Alex couldn't understand him.

"Whoa, whoa, dude, slow down. It's me, John is driving. What did you say?"

"Put me on speaker, I want John to hear this," said Herc on the other end.

When Alex did so, Herc resumed speaking.

"So President Washington invited me into his personal office and told me that..."

Hercules continued talking excitedly about how his personal interview for the FBI office went, and how Washington seemed impressed but probably slightly intimidated, "but that's good, right? I mean, I'm applying for the fucking FBI, and they're supposed to be intimidating, right?"

"To the enemy, not to the Commander in Chief," John pointed out. "Did everything else go well?"

"I mean, I had really good qualifications and stuff, and I tried my hardest to be professional, so I'd say it went well."

"If you say so," John said, still dubious. "After I drop Alex off, I'm stopping by the grocery store for some pork chops for dinner, okay?"

"Get some pasta to go with them."

"Sure."

_To: <3 Ray of Sunshine <3: I'll be here in a few mins, you have dinner, right?_

_< 3 Ray of Sunshine <3: Ahh sorry completely forgot!! You don't mind yesterday's leftovers, do you?_

_To: <3 Ray of Sunshine <3: Ooh yes that would be amazing! See you in a few, love you bunches :)_

_< 3 Ray of Sunshine <3: :))))_

John stopped in front of Alex and Charlie's house and peered over Alex's shoulder with amusement. "And you say Herc and I are sappy."

"Oh, shut up."

When Alex let himself into the house, Charlie was on the phone with someone. "I have enough stuff to start today," he said into the speaker. "It should be up by the time I go to bed."

Alex walked forward and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend from behind, nuzzling his face into his back.

"Okay, I have to go now. See you tomorrow."

He reached his arm behind him and gently patted Alex's head before wriggling around and looking down at him.

"So what should you have up by the time you go to bed?" Alex asked.

"Oh, just a work thing. There's a Facebook group for this project that we're working on, and I need to put up the first draft."

"Oh, okay." Alex didn't press further; Charlie worked in graphic design, something that he didn't understand well, and if he asked anything, he could rely on Charlie to give him a long-winded explanation that left him more confused than before he asked it.

"Speaking of drafts, how's that thing you're working on with Jefferson?"

Alex sighed loudly. "Not well. The man's such a fucking piece of _shit_ that he won't listen to me when my ideas will _clearly_ benefit the country more than that stupid Section Seven that he wants to add."

Charlie looked at him with sympathy as he continued.

"Angelica is encouraging me and stuff, telling me not to stop till we agree, but I'm pretty sure that if it weren't for her in the same building as us, I would have stabbed the guy a long time ago." He glared down at his wrist. "What a fucking shitface."

Charlie laughed. "Well, best of luck to you two. I'll go heat up dinner, you go get changed or something."

Alex went up to their room and changed from his suit into casual clothes. As he was putting on his shirt, his phone buzzed on his bedside table. He picked it up and sighed with relief when he saw who it was from.

_Labaguette: HAMILTON_

_Labaguette: I'M BACK FROM FRANCE FINALLY_

_To: Labaguette: AYEEEEEE_

_To: Labaguette: Time to get them American ladies ;) ;) ;)_

_Labaguette sent a photo._

Hamilton laughed upon seeing that it was a selfie of his friend and Peggy Schuyler.

_Labaguette: I have the one American lady that I need here with me^^^^_

_Labaguette: How're you and Charles?_

_To: Labaguette: He's waiting for me downstairs with dinner actually. Talk to you later French fry_

Alex finished putting his shirt on and went downstairs, where Charlie was already scooping rice and meatballs onto plates.

"Ah, set the table, will you, love?" Charlie called, gesturing with his ladle. "I got Pepsi, so I'll be having that."

"Pepsi sounds delicious," Alex said with approval as he opened the fridge and saw a six pack of the stuff. He grabbed two cans and two cups and carried them to the dinner table along with forks. Charlie came soon enough with the plates, and both sat down and began their dinner.

"So, how was work today?" Alex asked his boyfriend.

"Tedious and boring. We started a new project, but it's not even a  _fun_ project. Someone wants their business website designed. That means no dogs."

"Dogs are always important," Alex grinned. "Why don't we have a dog?"

"I don't know, sweetheart. I don't know."

"Didn't we meet because of a dog?"

Alex could see Charles smile at the memory, his blue eyes alight with happiness as he began to recall the story.

"We did. I'm pretty sure I was walking through the park with my friend's dog-"

"-and then it ran away and rammed into me, making me trip-"

"-and I nearly tripped over you and helped you up-"

"-and we made small talk and instantly clicked."

"And now, we're soulmates." Charles smiled and ran a hand through his blond hair, leaning forward to give Alex a kiss on the cheek.

"And I couldn't be more grateful for that." Alex put down his utensils and wrapped his arm around his boyfriend. As he did so, he got a glimpse of his right arm, which had the name Emma Johnson. Charlie had told him this story early in their relationship, about how she was his ex-girlfriend but then cheated on him with his best friend, forcing him to realize that the mysterious "Alexander Hamilton" on his other arm was almost certainly his soulmate. Charlie always told him that he hated his best friend's guts at the time, but now, he was grateful for that friend for pushing him onto the path that led him to meeting "the best man in the world."

After dinner, Alex checked the clock on his phone and realized that it was already 8:30.

"You should go to bed," Charlie said, resting his chin on the top of Alex's head while peering down at the phone.

"It's way too early, and I'm pretty sure Jefferson sent me another email. I need to yell at him."

"But you have to get up early tomorrow."

"I  _always_ have to get up early."

"Exactly. Go to bed, darling."

"Only if you go to bed with me." Alex turned around and looked up - why did he have to be so short? - into his boyfriend's eyes, trying his best to appear stubborn but failing.

Charlie laughed and leaned down to kiss him on the nose. "I need to put up that thing I was on the phone about."

"And I need to yell at the curly haired conservative dickhead."

"All right. Go yell at the curly haired conservative dickhead, but then you need to sleep. You don't get enough sleep these days or, like, ever." When Alex opened his mouth to protest, Charlie picked him up by the waist and slung him over his shoulder while carrying him upstairs. "Come on, come on." He gently tossed Alex onto the bed, then went back downstairs, skipping a step in that adorable way of his.

Alex sighed, reached for his laptop, and opened up his email account. Sure enough, there was a notification from ThoMESS JefferSUCK. He opened it, seeing that it was another rant about how shitty his revisions were.

_Seriously, Hamilton. Columbia must have_ really  _lowered its standards. I'll keep that in mind when I have college-age children._

Angrily, Alex began to comb through the argument, picking out bits and pieces and responding to them with his own rebuttals. When it was done, he read through it twice and made only a few revisions. At the end, he wrote,  _And Jefferson? I don't know who would love you enough to willingly have children with you. Your other wrist must be as empty as your brain._

Honestly, sometimes Alex wondered how he and Thomas hadn't murdered each other yet. While his other friends and acquaintances were mildly annoyed with their enemies at worst, he and Jefferson had some sort of mutual animosity that ran much deeper than any fated enemy bond he had ever seen. Sighing, he connected his laptop to its charger, changed into the old Columbia shirt that he used as his pajamas, climbed under his covers, and fell asleep quickly.

 

The next morning, his alarm clock buzzed and woke him up as always. He turned it off, kissed a grumbling Charlie on the forehead, and grabbed his phone from his bedside table (he had accidentally carried it up the night before and forgotten to take it down). To his surprise, he saw that it was swamped with messages, much more so than usual.

_Horse Fucker: Alex check the news_

_Horse Fucker: They're spreading shitty rumors about you_

_Horse Fucker: Name a time & place and I'll be there to fight them_

_Horse Fucker: A L E X_

_Turtle Dude:_   _Hey, I just saw an article saying that you stole funds from the government and used them to bribe someone_

_Turtle Dude: It has proof that you sent a bunch of emails to some guy from the Russian government_

_Turtle Dude: I mean obviously I don't believe them but I just want to know what is going on_

_Labaguette: What is up w/this news I'm seeing_

_Labaguette: Alex you didn't betray this country, did you?_

_Labaguette: Alex?_

_Too Pure for Us: Hey Alex, I just want you to know that I don't believe all the stuff they're saying about you. I mean, the proof is solid, but I know you, and you would never do that. Angie and Peggy and I are here to help you if you need it always :)_

_Peggo Eggo Leggo: alex wtf is up with the news_

There were more, much, much more, from other friends and acquaintances and coworkers, being sent by email and by text and by Facebook Messenger, flooding his phone, blowing up his notifications. There was some sort of scandal out there, some sort of scandal about him. How could he not know about it?

_I'll check it later_ , he decided, opening up the Facebook app as he walked downstairs. He was tagged in a ton of stuff, he saw, and "Alexander Hamilton" was at the top of the "Trending News." He wanted to scroll past, but he couldn't, and he set his thumb gingerly on the link. It led him to a New York Times article, which he quickly began to read.

_Overnight_ , the article read,  _Alexander Hamilton has become the center of a political scandal. An anonymous source posted a stream of Tweets accusing the Secretary of Treasury of embezzlement of the government funds that he is in charge of and paying off foreign governments._

Alex frowned. He had  _never_ done that,  _would_ never do that. But John had said that there was proof. He continued scrolling down.

_The anonymous source posted sensitive screenshots that appear to prove that Hamilton used his business account to send undocumented e-mails to an unknown person who appears to be in the Russian government. The mysterious person with the username @exposeaham proposed the connection that this e-mail exchange involved the two parties discussing the embezzlement._

This was  _absolutely_ not true. Those e-mails had discussed the loan that Russia had recently made to the US, and he didn't document them because he thought President Washington had.  _This should be easy. Just post a thing disproving them, maybe with screenshots if I need to, and I'll be done. I should be-_

But the article continued.  _Despite the tweet being up for only around eight hours, it already has close to 100,000 retweets, and the Internet has been thrown into a frenzy, with the twitter hashtag #impeachhamilton growing in popularity. Below are some comments on associated websites about the situation._

Alex forced himself to scroll through.

_Impeach him now!!!!!!_

_This is like Hillary Clinton 2.0 I'm smh so hard_

_Get Hamilton out of our govt before he fucks more shit up_

_#impeachhamilton before he brings our country to ruin_

Below that were a stream of racist comments, followed by the article resuming.

_Hamilton created a stir when he was first chosen for the cabinet as the first Latino Secretary of Treasury, having fairly little political experience before beginning work in the White House. From that point on, the immigrant from the Federation of Saint Kitts and Nevis, a country relatively unknown before that point, proved himself to be fairly competent by his party, but this scandal could cause the politician's career to go to ruin._

_Hamilton himself has not yet commented on these accusations._

_Update: Since this article's publishing, the Twitter account posted, "I've got more on its way...let's expose Hamilton once and for all #impeachhamilton"_

[So this was worse than he originally thought it would be. His political career could be destroyed, everything he had worked for for weeks, months,  _years_ , down the drain. All of the essays he had written, including that very first one that got him off the island in the first place, all the times he had faced death and won, all of the work that he had finished, all of the plans he still had, all of that gone, gone, gone, as if they never existed.  _God._ He didn't know who this mysterious @exposeaham person was - probably Jefferson, that  _bastard_ \- but whoever it was, he hated them, hated them, hated them, more than he had ever hated anyone before.  _Jesus fucking Christ._

He felt his chest compress, breaths becoming quicker, and he knew that a panic attack was coming on. He forced himself to focus on the screen in front of him, on the notifications that were flooding in. Friends were telling him that they supported him, coworkers were posting things about him that hurt to read, things about how he should just leave the cabinet before he destroyed the nation, total strangers who had probably not even known who he was before that point were suddenly posting about how much he hated him. This was a political scandal on scales that he could have never imagined, and he, Alexander Hamilton, was at the center of it.

_Focus, Alex. Focus. Take deep breaths._ But how could he, when he felt like he was dying, chest and neck tight like someone was choking him, body shaking so hard that he nearly dropped his phone, everything strangely surreal? How could he do  _anything_ properly when the nation hated him, when he was such a damn pathetic _mess_ who should just be  _gone_ , when he just wanted to curl up and never do anything again?

Alex forced himself to put down the phone, sit down on the couch, and focus on his surroundings, advice that Charlie had given him when Alex first opened up to him about his panic disorder.

_Alex, can you see the TV in front of you?_ Yes, he could.

_Can you see the CD rack next to the TV?_ Yes, it was there as always, one of the few constants in his life at this point.

_Can you feel the rug in between your toes?_ Yes, it felt warm and soft, like a blanket, only somehow also not like a blanket, if that made sense.

_Can you smell the air freshener from the bathroom that Charlie probably used before going to bed?_ Yes. It was such a weirdly strong smell of something that was supposed to be mint, but still had that air freshener smell like any other.

Alex wasn't sure how much time had passed - he never was - but he was soon on his feet, breaths steadying, reaching for a granola bar or something that he could quickly eat so as not to be late for work. Grounding questions always worked wonders for him during his attacks.]

After eating a quick meal, Alex quickly brushed his teeth, changed into a suit, hastily tied his tie, grabbed his things, and went downstairs and out the door to where John was already waiting in his car. It was only after he walked in that he realized that he had forgotten to brush his hair, so he hastily ran a hand through it to get it passably neat.

"Hey, Alex, you okay?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed in worry as Alex buckled his seat belt.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, not wanting to worry his friend, but knowing that John would see right through him. And he did.

"Did you have a panic attack?"

"I guess so. I didn't mean to, it was just everything was going on and-"

John reached over and placed a gentle hand on Alex's shoulder. "Hey. It's okay. Of  _course_ you didn't mean to. Are you all right now? Do you feel up for going to work?"

"I'll be all right."

"Don't forget, you can always call me or the others if you need to leave. Don't forget, okay? You don't need to do  _anything_ you don't feel up for doing."

Alex smiled. This unconditional caring was one of the things that he loved about his group of friends. "Yeah, I know."

"Oh, and I don't know if you saw, but the others and I texted you saying that we support you completely. We know that you would never do what this asshole is saying you did, and we're going to help you clear your name. Okay?"

"Okay. Thanks so much, you guys are the best friends anyone could ask for."

"Anything for our favorite immigrant."

"Laf would be offended if he heard that."

"Oh yeah. Our  _second_ favorite immigrant."

"Hey, now  _I'm_ offended!"

"Jesus Christ. You're both our favorite immigrant, okay?"

The car stopped at the White House, and John switched the ignition to Parking before clapping Alex on the shoulder. "Good luck. See you after work unless you need me before that."

"Thanks, man." Alex grabbed his things, left the car, and took a deep breath before walking in to face his coworkers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter summary: Alex goes home, has dinner with his boyfriend Charlie, yells at Jefferson via email, and goes to bed. In the morning, he discovers that false rumors are being spread about him that could ruin his political career and has a brief panic attack before reluctantly going to work. His friends all show their complete support to him and promise to help him disprove the rumors and clear his name.  
> Updates on Tuesdays and Fridays from now on unless school/life is too much of a thing for me to do anything.  
> P.S. Alex would totally keep a record of every bit of money that he lent anyone and you are completely free to fight me on this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHY ARE Y'ALL HATING ON CHARLIE HE IS A TOL SMOL BEAN WHO JUST WANTS TO PET DOGS AND KISS HIS BOYFRIEND LEAVE HIM ALONE  
> If you didn't notice, I've officially divided up my plot into chapters. There are gonna be 7, and if I keep up my current update rate (which I will), the last chapter will be published on October 21, aka my school's homecoming.  
> I'm loving all of your kind comments (holy shit, I never expected this to get as many fans as it currently has!), and I'm loving your conspiracy theories for the identity of @exposeaham even more. I, personally, think that it's either six James Madisons in a trench coat, an unknown Jamilton shipper, or Benjamin Franklin, who is bitter at not being featured in Hamilton the Musical.  
> Oh well, I guess we'll find out together :)

_ Ding. _

That was the noise of the door of the White House as Alex waved his key card in front of the sensor. Quickly, he reached out his hand, opened it, and walked inside.  _ Focus on your surroundings, Alex. Focus on yourself. They are not going to hurt you. Let their words wash over you. You're going to be fine. _

_ Ding. _

That was the noise of the elevator as it came to his floor, the doors sliding open, empty except for an intern who had a tray of coffee in her hands and an apologetic smile on her face. Alex grinned back, grateful that the first person he encountered wasn't a merciless bully, and stepped inside. The elevator slowly slid up, stopping on the third floor, probably to pick someone up from the break room. Sure enough, someone soon walked in, phone in hand, and Alex sighed inwardly when he saw that it was Charles Lee.

"Hey, Hamilton," he said.

_ Wait, why is he being friendly?  _ Lee was  _ never _ friendly. Already suspicious, Alex responded with, "Hey, Lee."

"Heard you were selling our secrets to the Russian government?"

_ There it is.  _ "Yeah, I've heard those dumb rumors. Rumors is all they are, though. I'll publish a thing disproving them."  _ Breathe, Alex. Breathe. _

"Not just rumors. You sent undocumented e-mails. That's very suspicious. Even you ought to know that."

"Oh my god, fuck off," snapped Alex, jabbing the number for his floor before realizing that he had already pressed it when he walked into the elevator.

"Hey, at least I'm not some random immigrant with zero political experience showing up in the White House like he's better than everyone."

_ Why did everyone have to mention the immigrant thing?  _ "Jesus Christ, Lee, it's 2016. You can't use immigrant as an insult. Even you ought to know that." He said this last sentence in a mocking tone, imitating Lee making fun of him and the scandal that now surrounded him.

_ Ding. _

"Well, this is my stop," Lee said breezily as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. "See ya later, traitor."

"You little  _ shit. _ "

_ Ding. _

The elevator came to a stop at Alex's floor immediately afterwards. He scooped up his things and walked out, trying to arrive at his office quickly in order to avoid anyone else coming to talk to him. He honestly didn't have the mental energy to deal with that right now, especially not after that morning.

Alex got his laptop out, set it on his desk, and turned it on, immediately checking his e-mail. There was a flurry of emails from his co-workers, all twenty-three of which Alex deleted without opening when he saw that the preview included insults relating to the scandal. None of them were worth replying to, anyway.  _ Honestly, how did any of them get onto the staff of George Washington in the current century with all this blatant racism and xenophobia?  _ A seemingly innocent email from James Madison, a request for a signature from an intern...

_ Ding. _

...and an e-mail from Jefferson.  _ Now  _ his day had officially begun.

 

Alex was editing the bill, inserting sentences and ideas that he knew Jefferson would hate, when he heard someone else walk into his office. He looked up from his laptop and saw that it was one of his co-workers whose name he could not at the time recall.

"Hey, Hamilton. Why didn't you respond to my e-mail?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I must not have gotten it," Alex responded without thinking. "What was it about?"

"How you need to  _ get the hell out  _ of the White House. We can't have traitors on the council."

"I didn't betray us. Those emails were about-"

"Oh, those emails are old news," the co-worker said. "Didn't you see? The Twitter has a new thing."

"Oh, is that so?" Alex asked, voice practically pouring with bitterness and anger.

"Yep. Apparently you-"

"I'll check it for myself later. Get out of my office."

The co-worker looked like he was going to say something else, but Alex gave him a stone cold glare, and he quickly backed out of the room. Once he was sure that he was gone, Alex opened a new tab in Chrome and went on twitter.com/exposeaham. At the top of the page, there was a new series of tweets, this one claiming that he had conspired with the fellow members of his political party to get John Adams out of the White House staff. Attached was a video where he had cursed out John Adams and called him a "motherf-" (the video cut off at that moment) and phone receipts showing excessive text conversations with John Jay and Thomas Pinckney, all just days before John Adams had serious political scandals. Already, the tweets were going viral, and Alex just  _ knew _ that Adams was going to start shit.

_ Jesus Christ. How is this happening to me?  _ Alex let out a long breath, closed the tab, finished the newest draft of the bill, and attached it in an e-mail to Jefferson.  _ Fucking bastard is probably the one behind all this.  _ He genuinely wouldn't have been surprised if he walked into the man's office and caught him typing out the tweets about his scandals. Honestly, if he had receipts, Alex would have probably done the same. Anything to get the arrogant bastard out of office.

The rest of the day passed fairly uneventfully; Alex deleted hate emails and briefly contemplated adding the entire staff to his block list before deciding against it, continued working on his essays (Madison seemed passive-aggressive in his correspondence, Jay was thankfully as civil as always, though seemingly a bit bitter at being included in the scandal) and the bill with Jefferson, and locked his office door after three more co-workers came to harass him about the tweets. Occasionally, John would send him texts asking him if he was okay, and Alex would reply, heart warmed from the kindness of his friend.

 

At the end of the day, Alex went home, taking the stairs to avoid bumping into anyone. When he walked into John's car, instinctively sitting in the front passenger seat, a hand reached out from behind and punched him in the shoulder.

"WHAT THE FU-oh, hey, Herc." Looking behind him, Alex saw that his friend was sitting in the back, grinning widely.

"Alex! How are you doing, dude?"

"I'm doing great! How's the job search goin'?

"I've applied to some other jobs that suit my skills, but I really think that I'm going to get into the FBI, so I'm not really putting that much effort into the applications."

"Is that smart?"

"Nah, not really. But I don't care."

"So, why is Herc here?" Alex asked, looking over at John. "Usually you pick me up without him."

"Oh, I forgot to tell you," he said. "You're invited over for dinner at my house. Charlie's already there, and so are Laf, Eliza, and Peggy. I wanted to invite Angelica, but she had a thing at work. I brought Herc 'cause he wanted to see you."

"We've both been so busy that we've only communicated through the group chat," Herc said defensively. "I've been starving for a glimpse of your beautiful face."

Alex laughed and clapped his friend on the back. "Sorry, I'm taken. A tantalizing glimpse of my attractiveness is all you're gonna get."

"I'm  _ right here _ ," John said in mock anger. His house was closer to the White House than Alex's, so the three of them arrived sooner. He parked the car in the driveway, and the group walked to the front door, which was opened instantly by a grinning Laf, whom Alex hugged tightly as soon as he walked in.

"I've missed you, man," he said. "You've been off in France for way too long. Come back sooner next time."

"I'll try." Laf tied his hair back into a ponytail as the group followed him into the house. Eliza, Peggy, and Charlie were already on the floor playing cards, but when they walked in, Charlie instantly stood up and went to Alex, pulling him aside from the rest of the group.

"Are you okay?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed in genuine concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I had a panic attack this morning-"

"And you still went to work? And didn't tell me?"

"You were asleep. And I didn't want to just text you in the middle of the work day."

"Hey, you can always tell me about these things. That's what I'm here for. Please tell me next time, okay? Let me support you."

"I will. I promise."

"Thanks." Charlie kissed Alex on the forehead before taking his hand and returning to the group. When they went into the living room, Eliza began to talk.

"Alex, the reason why we invited you here was to talk about these rumors."

Alex bristled, tightly squeezing Charlie's hand in anger. " _ I didn't do it. _ "

"Hey." Eliza stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know you didn't. What I meant was that we're going to talk about how we're going to save your reputation."

"Yeah, okay. I'm sorry, I've just been absolutely  _ swamped  _ with harassment from my coworkers. It's been painful."

"I understand. It's completely okay."

"Your coworkers are dickholes," Peggy said, putting down her cards and looking up at Alex. "You don't deserve them."

"Has Jefferson been giving you any crap?" Charlie asked warily, tracing circles with his thumb on Alex's wrist. "You know I'm ready to fight him at any time."

"Morgryn, you couldn't fight a fucking  _ fly _ if your life depended on it," Herc said from the kitchen, where he was putting pieces of meatloaf on plates. "You're too pure for this world. Like Eliza."

"Yeah, but I could fight a fly if  _ Alex's  _ life depended on it. Which it could."

"You got me there. Didn't you once try to beat up Burr because he called Alex an arrogant whoreson?"

Charlie laughed. "I'm pretty sure I remember that. Didn't I also call him a failure of a human being?"

"You did. I practically had to pull you off him. Dinner's ready, guys!"

The group immediately went to the kitchen, where five extra chairs were pulled up to the table in order to accommodate everyone, and ate Herc's meatloaf quickly (they had barely spoken, too distracted by the deliciousness of his juicy meat). After eating, they stayed at the table to discuss Alex's scandal situation.

"You're going to need to find information disproving the accusations against you," said Laf. "Screenshots of emails, alibis,  _ anything. _ "

"We'll vouch for you if you need us to, and we'll find other people who'll do the same," John added.

"The person's going to keep pulling receipts on you, so I would try and take preventative measures to guard your private information," Charlie suggested.

Alex nodded and thanked them for their ideas, all of which he had been turning over in his head for the past couple of hours.

After thinking about how Alex could get rid of the charges against him, the group started to think about who could possibly be behind the Twitter account. At first, the suggestions were serious, mostly including Alex's political rivals - Jefferson most notably, also James Monroe and Frederick Muhlenberg, even James Madison - but then, they slowly started to drift into the absurd.

"Maybe it's JOHN CENA," Peggy said.

" _ Obviously  _ it's the Illuminati," Laf said.

"I don't know about you guys, but I think that it's every dog in the world, joining forces in bitterness that Alex and I haven't adopted them," said Charlie. "We need to adopt them quickly before they pull up more receipts."

"Or maybe it's one of us," John said dramatically, holding back giggles as Eliza hummed dramatic music in the background.

"Maybe it's...Peggy Schuyler. Proof: she has Internet access and usage of her fingers." Laf leaned over and patted her hair. "What are you doing with that phone, huh, Peggy?"

"I'm proving that it's Angelica. Proof: she isn't here tonight."

"She has a work thing."

"Convenient alibi."

"My theory is that it's Alex himself, ruining his own reputation to get himself out of office in order to be able to spend more time with his friends and boyfriend," John said with a grin. "And I wholeheartedly support his mission."

"It's me," said Charlie. "I'm jealous of Alex's relationship with his work. I want him all to myself."

"You don't even have a Twitter. At least make your theories realistic, man." Alex ruffled his boyfriend's hair and grinned.

"Fine. It's me,  _ as a member of the Illuminati. _ I send the receipts to them, and then they post it on the Illuminati Twitter."

"See, that's better."

"I can confirm that," Herc said. "I'm working with him. This job search has been a cover for my actual secret illegal and immoral activities." He leaned over and fist-bumped with Charlie.

It was way past eight when the guests started to leave, and a little past nine when Charlie and Alex arrived at their house. Quickly, both men changed into pajamas and went to bed. Alex, exhausted but also way calmer than he had been at the beginning of the day, fell asleep quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My school was cancelled today because of Hurricane Matthew, but I'm a procrastinating little shit, so this update is late in the day as always.  
> As a side note, do any of you understand the reference in the title of this fic? Extra macaroni points if you do! (What are macaroni points? I have no idea...)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another panic attack here, I'll be putting the passage in [brackets] and leaving a chapter summary again, and I still love all of you bunches <3  
> I hope you all enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!

"Hey, Hamilton. Heard you blackmailed George Washington?"

"Hey, Hamilton. You going off to embezzle more of our government funds?"

"Hamilton, we need to talk. I didn't get the votes for my bill to get passed, and I blame you. I asked around, and most people said that they would be willing to vote for it."

"Hey, traitor."

It became a rhythm, like the ticking of a clock. Every day, Alex would go to work, dropped off by John in front of the White House building (his car wasn't due to be fixed for another week). Every day, he would swipe his keycard. Every day, he would walk in through the door and try to get to his office as quickly as possible. And every day, he would be faced with a barrage of abuse, sometimes leading to intense panic attacks in his office. One time, it got so bad that he had to call John and go home, and he laid on the floor, covered with blankets, for the next couple of hours.

"Oh, I wouldn't invite Hamilton to the cabinet meeting. He's just going to steal our secrets and give them to the British government."

"I e-mailed the document to everyone except for Hamilton. I don't trust him."

"No, Hamilton, it would _not_ be fine if you met up with me tomorrow. I'm just going to ask Lee for help or something."

He worked with his friends tirelessly to disprove the rumors. His phone was blowing up, not from hateful messages (Herc had showed him an app that filtered every message containing certain words) but from texts from his friends talking about alibis they had, people who could testify that he hadn't been in the right place at the right time, screenshots that proved that he hadn't done the things that the mysterious Twitter had said he had done. And yet every day, there were more, and the scariest thing was that the accusations were just plausible enough to be true. And so the abuse continued, and he was tagged in hateful posts on Facebook and Twitter and even Tumblr (how had they even found his personal blog?), and the risk of Alex's political career finally ending grew bigger and bigger by the day.

_ThoMESS JefferSUCK: Meet me before work in my office. We need to talk about page five._

_To: ThoMESS JefferSUCK: Sorry, I can't_

_To: ThoMESS JefferSUCK: Let's text about it now_

_ThoMESS JefferSUCK: Hamilton it's three in the morning and I'm tired_

_To: ThoMESS JefferSUCK: Which is why you texted me & woke me up? _

_ThoMESS JefferSUCK: You weren't sleeping let's be real_

_To: ThoMESS JefferSUCK: But what if I was_

_To: ThoMESS JefferSUCK: Anyway what exactly is your issue with page five_

_ThoMESS JefferSUCK: The upper class is going to hate it_

_ThoMESS JefferSUCK: Section VI is a direct attack on their wealth and rights_

_To: ThoMESS JefferSUCK: We already addressed that part in your stupid Section VII_

_To: ThoMESS JefferSUCK: Do you even pay attention to what I say_

This back and forth continued for two hours, Alex sitting downstairs in the living room so as not to wake Charlie, and by morning, he had gotten much less sleep than he usually did.  No _way_ was that going to be good for his health, both mental and physical. _Fuck Jefferson._

"Any news from the Twitter?" Alex asked John as he was sitting in his car about half an hour after waking up, huge travel mug of coffee in his hand. He tried not to check @exposeaham himself (it very often was a huge toll on his mental health), relying on his friends and harassers to update him on the latest scandals.

"Yep. Apparently you're having an affair with Martha Washington, and the only reason the president doesn't suspect anything is because he favors you. Honestly, these get more and more ridiculous every day. How the hell do people believe them?"

Alex snorted. "Didn't I also have a one-night stand with Vice President Adams?"

"Yeah, like, a week and a half ago. Alex, you dirty slut. You've been getting around."

"I sure have. Can't wait until the news spreads that I've been bribing Secretary Jefferson with sex to get his votes."

"Speaking of Secretary Jefferson, how are you two doing?"

"John, what the fuck."

"NO, that's not what I meant!"

"Oh, thank god. I was worried."

"How is your _bill_ coming along? How many times a day do you plot his murder?"

"Our bill is coming along okay. We're actually managing to compromise on certain parts."

"That's good. I mean, better your ideas and Jefferson's than neither of your ideas, right?"

That was something Eliza had said, around the time that Alex and Jefferson met and started hating each other instantly. Alex had tried to keep it in mind, but sometimes, it was too hard to remember when he saw Jefferson's absolutely terrible suggestions.

"Oh, I'm going to try and save up money to go back to college and get a degree in biology," John said, trying to sound nonchalant but barely able to conceal the excitement in his voice.

"You should totally do it! That would be _so great!_ "

"Yeah, it would. My dad would be pissed - you know he always wanted me to be a lawyer - but then again, he's already on the fence of disowning me 'cause I'm gay and best friends with a bi guy. I don't even care about pleasing him at this point."

"If he says anything, mail him your turtle drawings, only their shells spell out ‘FU.’"

"I will."

They had arrived, so Alex grabbed his things, almost spilling his coffee on his lap in the process, and walked, exhausted, to the White House entrance.

"Hey, Hamilton. Heard you made Washington a cuckold?"

"Your boyfriend must be so disappointed. Do you even love him?"

"I bet you also have hate sex with Secretary Jefferson."

"Aw, Hamilton, you'll spread your legs for Martha Washington, but not for me?"

This was just the first couple of people, gathered in the entrance hallway, whispering and laughing.

"Fuck off, I'm too tired for all of you," Alex snapped.

"Oh yeah, I forgot. You were having that hot political sex last night."

" _Fuck. Off._ "

"Whatever, traitor. I'm surprised you aren't impeached yet."

Alex crossed the room in a flash, ran to the elevator, - thankfully, it opened instantly - pressed against the wall, and purposely pressed the button for the last floor, not his own. He needed to take a breather.

[Sex was a particularly sore subject for him; it wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy it, but he himself did not know who his father was. His own mother was called a "whore" and was accused of sleeping around, to the point where there were many, many men that could be Alex's father. He had been harassed about it as a child, called a "bastard" and a "whoreson" and mercilessly bullied by his classmates and even adults. Even now, with a powerful position and a strong political career, it was one of the most frequent attacks against him, right up there with racism, xenophobia, and his lack of previous political experience compared to the other members of Washington's cabinet. He was hurt and panicked, sad and tired, bitter and angry, so many emotions swirling in one Alexander Hamilton.

His chest started hurting, compressing into itself as if it wanted to make itself as small as possible, and it was becoming more and more difficult to-

_Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Come on, Alex, you just came. You can't leave this soon. People will start talking._

_Ding_ , went the elevator for "his floor." He focused on stepping out, on the feel of his briefcase clutched in his right arm, but all he could think about was how he was a failure, how he was going to get impeached and die and disappear, a hurricane of thoughts swirling around in his brain. Alex walked without knowing where he was going, without really knowing _anything_ except for the fact that he was panicking, panicking, panicking, not noticing that someone was in his path until he bumped into him.

"Hamilton?"

_Of all the people._

"Jefferson."

"Watch where you're going. Also, your suggestions on this bill are absolutely ridiculous. I showed them to Madison and we've been laughing all morning."

"Fuck off, Jefferson, I don't want to deal with you right now." Alex walked away, still trying to breathe, barely able to muster the words to talk. He felt dissociated from reality, so dizzy that it was a miracle that he was able to walk without collapsing. _Just get to the stairs. Focus on that._ It seemed as if everything was going to be fine until he heard footsteps behind him.

"Hamilton!"

_Jesus fucking Christ._ Alex walked faster, practically running, so fast that he felt that he would soon trip over himself.

"Hamilton." Jefferson had caught up for him and was now standing in his path, but Alex was too tired and panicked to focus on his face.

"Fuck o-" His chest was too tight to say anything else.

"Hamilton." He had his hand on Alex's shoulder now, squatting down slightly so he could look him in the eyes.

"Hamilton. I want you to name five things you can see, four things you can hear, three things you can feel, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste. Can you do that for me? Breathe a bit before you start if you need to."

With great effort, Alex took three deep breaths.

"Your eyes." He was staring right into them. They were very dark brown, almost black, and they were narrowed in what seemed like concern behind the frames of his glasses.

"The wall behind you, the name board on the door to your right, the floor, my shoes." It took effort to speak, but already he was feeling calmer. _Grounding questions. These are grounding questions, like what Charlie told me about. How did Jefferson know that they would work?_

"Yes, very good. You're doing great. Four things you can hear."

"My own voice, someone talking in the background, high heels on the floor, the air conditioning running."

"Three things you can feel."

"Your hand on my shoulder, my suit jacket on my arms, my nails digging into my right hand." He hadn't even realized that his hand was clenched into a fist. He released it, breathing heavily. It was easier to breathe now, the invisible cord around his body gently loosening.

"Two things you can smell."

"Someone's perfume, probably Intern Kate's, and freshly baked cheese pizza."

"One thing you can taste."

"My own saliva."

"Are you feeling better now?"

He was. There was still panic lingering, but it was manageable now. He would be able to function much better. _Thank you_ , he wanted to say, body overflowing with gratitude, but he was afraid that Jefferson would find it weird.

"Those were grounding questions," he said instead. "For panic attacks. How did you know that they would work?"

"I used to have terrible social anxiety," Jefferson replied, taking his hand off of Alex's shoulder somewhat awkwardly. "I couldn't leave my house for two days after an attack once. My therapist suggested these. I'm guessing you have some sort of panic disorder as well?"

"Yeah, panic disorder. It's worse when I'm tired, and the people down there were harassing me again, and seeing you didn't exactly help either."

Although Jefferson could have chosen to interpret that last part as an insult, he thankfully didn't. "I see. And you've had it for a long time, I'm guessing? I thought I saw you having attacks before, but I wasn't sure."

"Five years diagnosed now." About six months before he had started dating Charlie.

"I see."

Alex nodded. "It really fucking sucks. I always feel so pathetic and helpless while I'm having an attack." He wasn't sure why he was suddenly opening up to his political rival. Maybe it was because he was finally showing some compassion, or maybe because he almost never saw somebody who understood how it felt to have a panic attack. Even his closest friends didn't understand, though they tried to.

"I felt that way all the time, too. It's really terrible."

"Thank you." The words were easier to say now.

"Listen, Hamilton. You've changed ever since the whole scandal thing started."

"No shit."

"No, I don't mean in the expected way. You've been having panic attacks more. You're either even more explosive than usual or way too quiet. You either work non-stop for hours or just sit there and stare into space. It's really worrying me."]

"Since when are _you_ worried about me?"

"Since you just fucking had a panic attack and confirmed what I suspected. Anyway, let me help you. Please. I've seen you publish papers disproving your accusations, but you've got a long way to go. I can help. We're around each other a lot, and as far as everyone knows, we’re bitter enemies, so people won't think that I'm just covering for you 'cause you're my friend. I can be a huge help if you'd let me.

Alex looked at him suspiciously. "And how do I know that you're not just trying to work your way into my good graces so you can destroy my career? Or find more dirt on me for the account that you're secretly running?"

"Listen, if I'm lying about this, and you discover me, I will sign every single damn bit of your shitty legislation without changing a thing. _And_ I'll give you dirt on me so that you can create a scandal about me and get me impeached."

If this was normal circumstances, Alex would have probably given Jefferson the finger and walked away. But Jefferson had just helped him through a panic attack. Jefferson was being kind to him, and his face looked genuinely compassionate, the plea clearly visible on his face.

"Fine."

"Thank you, Hamilton. I'll do my best, I promise."

Jefferson was walking to his office, Alex awkwardly behind him looking for the stairs, when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He stopped, pulled it out, and looked at the screen.

_Turtle Dude: Hey, I'm super sorry, but I have a scholarship application thing, and I can't pick you up after work today. Sorry :(_

"Shit," said Alex out loud.

Jefferson stopped and turned around. "What is it?"

"My friend can't pick me up tonight. I don't have a ride home."

"Oh, I'll drive you. I don't think I have any meetings after work today."

"You'd do that?"

"Yeah, sure. No problem."

"Thanks. I'll meet you in the parking lot?"

"Yeah. You can't stay longer like you usually do, though. I'm going to be meeting up with an old friend for drinks tonight, and I really don't want to be late."

"Okay. Thanks."

"No problem."

Alex found the stairs and walked down to his floor while texting.

_To: Turtle Dude: It's fine, Jefferson can drive me_

_To: <3 Ray of Sunshine <3: Hey, I'm going to be a couple of hours early home today (probably coming home before you actually), not staying late :) _

_Turtle Dude: Wait why is Jefferson driving you?????_

_To: Turtle Dude: Long story_

_To: Turtle Dude: Also he's helping us disprove the accusations_

_ <3: Ray of Sunshine <3: Thank goodness, I get to see you earlier <3 _

After work, he met Jefferson in the parking lot, and they walked together to his car, a black Tesla that looked gently used. Jefferson got into the driver's seat, and Alex got into the front passenger seat next to him.

"So, where do you live?" Jefferson asked, handing Alex the GPS so that he could put his address in. After he did so, they drove home in awkward silence that was broken only by the occasional orders to turn right in 0.1 miles or keep left.

"Just text me when you need my help," Jefferson said when they had arrived.

"Of course. Thanks again."

"It's no problem. Really. I may not like you that much, but _no one_ deserves what you're going through."

Alex grinned in genuine gratitude as he picked up his things and walked to his front door. This change in their relationship was weird, but he decided that he liked it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter summary: The rumors continue to ruin Alex's life as he is faced with abuse from co-workers and strangers on the internet. After being harassed by his co-workers and bumping into Jefferson, Alex begins showing symptoms of a panic attack and wants to leave, but Jefferson stops him and helps calm him down with grounding questions, confessing that he once suffered from crippling social anxiety. Jefferson also confesses that he realized due to a variety of factors that the rumors are taking a huge toll on Alex's mental health and begs him to let him help, even driving him home after John Laurens can't.  
> YOOOOOO I actually worked on this more than usual yesterday, which is why it's up in the morning and not the evening!


	5. Chapter 5

_To: Save Alex's Rep Squad: Hey, guys, Jefferson is going to be helping us, can I add him to this chat?_

_Save Alex's Rep Squad: Peggo Eggo Leggo: We've shared some pretty personal stuff in this chat so I'd make a different chat and add him to that one_

_Save Alex's Rep Squad: Horse Fucker: Wait hold up Jefferson is going to be helping you?_

_Save Alex's Rep Squad: Horse Fucker: Don't you hate each other?_

_To: Save Alex's Rep Squad: It's a long story and I'll tell you guys the whole thing later_

Alex made a new group chat to which he added Charlie, his friends, the Schuyler sisters, and Jefferson. He was still in his phone as ThoMESS JefferSUCK, and Alex considered changing it for a second, but he didn't know what to change it to, so he left it as it was.

_To: Save Alex's Rep Squad 2.0: Hey guys, this is going to be the new group chat to disprove the rumors_

_Save Alex's Rep Squad 2.0: ThoMESS JefferSUCK: k_

Alex was about to set down his phone and go upstairs when he got a message from John.

_Turtle Dude: You promised to tell me the whole story about Jefferson_

_To: Turtle Dude: I will later, I have to go change now_

After changing out of his suit into a shirt from Charlie's graphic design company and sweatpants, he picked up his phone and called his best friend.

"Hello?"

"Hey, John. I'm just calling to explain why Jefferson is helping us 'cause it's kind of a long story, and I can't explain it over text."

"Oh, please do. It's been tearing me apart ever since I got that text of yours."

"Okay, so, I walked into work, and they were harassing me about the rumors that I was having an affair with Martha Washington, basically making all these sexual comments and stuff. And you know how I'm kind of touchy about it."

"Give me a list of names, a time, and a place. I'll be over in a second to fight them."

"Um, I think Lee was there, and I didn't recognize the others. Time: twenty-four/seven. Place: literally anywhere."

"Gotcha. Anyway, continue."

"Anyway, I started having a panic attack in the elevator, so I went on the top floor so I could think and breathe. And I bumped into Jefferson, and he asked me some grounding questions, not like the kind that Charlie asked me, different ones. And that helped calm me down, and then he told me that he was  _worried_ about me and offered to help 'cause he had alibis that he could offer 'cause we spend a lot of time around each other but we're enemies, so it wouldn't be suspicious."

"Of all the people I expected you to be involved with in this, Jefferson was probably on the bottom of the list."

"I would put Lee on the bottom of the list, actually, and Jefferson just above him."

"Oh yeah, true."

"And anyway, he told me that he used to have really bad social anxiety, and that's why he helped me. And I think he still hates me. Pretty sure he would do this for anyone."

"Maybe he would. But at least he's help."

"Help is always good." Even though the group had been having a lot of success, it was a huge toll on everyone's free time and stress levels. Alex clearly remembered a time when he, Eliza, Charlie, and John, with occasional input from Angelica, had stayed up all night looking for a specific video clip. They had all come into work exhausted the next day, and all four texted him about consuming more coffee than the average human over the course of the day. Jefferson's input would really help them.

Alex and John stayed on the phone for the next half hour, trading stories from work and the scholarship meeting, and they only parted when Alex heard the sound of the garage door opening that signified the arrival of Charlie. It was still weird for Alex to be the first one arriving; usually he stayed at work for hours finishing up his bills and ideas.

"Hey, sweetheart," he murmured into Charlie's ear as the two hugged.

"Hey, love. How was work?"

"Same as usual, except for Jefferson suddenly being nice."

"Oh yeah, I've  _really_ been wondering about that. Tell me real quick before I go up to change."

"People were harassing me about the rumors, and I was having a panic attack, and he helped me through it and then offered to help me disprove them. He said he was worried about me."

"Well, I can't exactly blame him. I'm glad you guys are being nice to each other. Maybe when this Twitter thing stops you'll be able to work together better. Maybe you'll even be _friends_."

"Oh, I don't think Jefferson and I will  _ever_ get along. He _is_ my enemy, after all." Alex lifted up his right wrist.

Charlie grinned and snorted slightly. "Hey, who knows. At the  _very least_ , you won't try to slam his head into a copy machine."

Alex laughed slightly at the memory. Jefferson had come into his office to talk about a bill that he needed Alex's signature for, and it had ended in them physically fighting (he remembered Jefferson tearing a part of Alex's suit jacket and Alex slamming him into his desk). They had barely managed to stop when they heard President Washington approaching.

"If I slam him into a copy machine, he won't be able to help me. I can't let that happen."

"Ha."

But when Charlie left to change, and Alex stared down at his arms and remembered Jefferson's own arms gently holding his shoulders, face curved into a look of concern as he guided him through the grounding questions, he felt a pang of guilt at the joke that he had made.

 

The next day at work, Alex saw Jefferson as he always did, but neither one said hi to each other, though as they were passing by, Jefferson paused slightly, and Alex got the feeling that there was something the taller man wanted to say. Later in the day, when he was at home, he got a text in the group chat.

_Save Alex's Rep Squad 2.0: ThoMESS JefferSUCK: That last message about Hamilton buying illegal drugs with the transactions as proof is false. I was with him in NYC at the time, and those were packets of macaroni that he bought for our meeting. Also, I can confirm that he didn't do anything that would suggest that he was buying or selling illegal drugs._

_To: Save Alex's Rep Squad 2.0: Okay thanks, can you post something on some sort of social media saying that so I can post it on my Facebook disproving the rumors?_

_Save Alex's Rep Squad 2.0: ThoMESS JefferSUCK: I'm on it right now_

Messages along that vein were the only messages that Alex got from Jefferson in that chat. No funny stories, no replies to funny stories shared by his other friends, no memes. Business, and that was all. Before the panic attack, their correspondence was rough, abrasive, filled with hatred and passion and fire, anger practically pouring out of their e-mails and texts. But their lives at work didn't cross, and their e-mails about the bill were brief and diplomatic. Every time Alex wanted to insult Jefferson in one of their conversations, it felt awkward and weird, and every time he wanted to move their relationship further into, say, friendship, it was even more so. They were in a limbo, no hatred, no love, and Alex was painfully, painfully bored. The other people at work he hated just weren't as much of a match for his wits as Jefferson used to be, and his life did not usually intersect enough with Angelica's for them to really spend much time together. He almost wished Jefferson hadn't helped him with that panic attack, just so he could have those exciting debates with someone at his level.

Sighing, Alex opened up his Gmail account to e-mail his latest essay to John Jay and James Madison.

 

_Save Alex's Rep Squad 2.0: Too Pure For Us: Hey guys, I was thinking about having a dinner at my house to celebrate how far we've come, what time would be good for you guys?_

_Save Alex's Rep Squad 2.0: Peggo Eggo Leggo: I can do this Friday, not much else b/c I'm super busy with my classes_

_Save Alex's Rep Squad 2.0: Labaguette: This friday sounds good to me_

_Save Alex's Rep Squad 2.0: Turtle Dude: Yeah same_

The rest of the messages in the group chat were everyone else agreeing on Friday for Eliza's dinner, except for Angelica, who was going on a date with her girlfriend to see a musical. After a brief check of his calendar, Alex typed out a text saying that he, too, was free, excited for the prospect of a home-cooked meal of Eliza's.

_Save Alex's Rep Squad 2.0: Too Pure For Us: Okay, I'll have some delicious food ready at my house on Friday, can't wait to see you guys :)_

 

On Friday, Eliza's driveway was crammed with cars when Alex and Charlie arrived. Charlie parked their car on the road, and the two walked toward the door, which was opened instantly by an anxious Peggy.

" _Finally_ , you guys are here. Food's been ready for ten minutes, but Eliza said that we couldn't eat it until everyone came."

"Smart woman," said Charlie. He and Alex took off their shoes and walked inside, where Laf, Herc, John, and Eliza were standing and chatting.

"Where's Jefferson?" Alex asked almost instantly.

"He hasn't arrived yet," Eliza said. Peggy emitted a loud groan.

"Eliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiza, can't I have just a tiny bit of the food? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease? I'm  _starving._ "

"You'll live," said Eliza sternly. "It's not polite to eat without everyone there."

Five minutes of small talk and the occasional groan from Peggy later, the group heard the doorbell ring. Laf moved to open it and let in Jefferson, dressed as always in an obnoxiously bright jacket and pants.

"What'd I miss?" he asked.

"A starving Peggy," Herc replied, coming in from the living room. "Come on, let's go eat. Eliza has had the food ready for like-"

"FIFTEEN MINUTES!" 

"There you go."

Jefferson smiled uneasily, as if he wanted to laugh, and probably _would_ laugh were he around his friends.

"Table's already set," John said as the group came through the living room and into the dining room. Eliza had had to get a fold-up table to put next to the main one, but there was still barely enough room for the nine of them. She had laid out steak, meatballs, potato fries, and pasta so that the group could pick and choose, and there was a bottle of wine on the table. Jefferson picked it up, uncorked it, and sniffed it while nodding in approval.

"This is good vintage," he said to Eliza, all his shyness gone.

"Thank you. My sister Angelica picked it out."

"Tell her she has good taste."

The group sat down at the table and began to eat. John began to tell a story about something that happened at the scholarship event, with Herc, who had been there, occasionally cutting in. It was a funny story, and the room was filled with laughter, but Alex noticed that Jefferson's shyness had returned, as he was sitting quietly and laughing uneasily, as if he was afraid of being  _too_ _much_ , of the group rejecting him and disapproving of him. The others were too preoccupied with the story and the food to notice, so Alex stole subtle glances across the table at the man's uncharacteristically nervous demeanor.

The storytelling continued; Eliza talked about the children in the orphanage she ran, and Peggy told them about a guy she saw around university who flirted with her using weird pick-up lines. And every time, Jefferson looked like he wanted to say something, but he remained silent, picking at his macaroni and meatballs.

Alex remembered something that happened with Lee at work earlier in the day, so when there was a lull in the conversation, he spoke.

"Okay, so today, Lee came in to talk to me - and by talk I mean yell at, of course - so anyway, he came into my office and began telling me about how my political opinions are shit,  _completely unprovoked_ , and I was trying to ignore him 'cause I didn't want to get into trouble with President Washington or anyone, but he kept going on and on, and then he started moving on to more personal insults..."

Jefferson leaned forward, looking intrigued; he had been passing by the office later in the event, but no one had told him what had happened in the beginning.

"...he called me ugly and an arrogant little shit, started insulting my friends, even insulted  _Charlie_ at some point. But then Monroe came in to pick up some papers from me, and he walked in on Lee yelling at me while I was working. Now, you know Monroe hates me, but he could see that it was Lee who was provoking me this time. So he told him to stop, and Lee turned around and told him to 'stay out of it.' And then Monroe called him an arrogant little shit,  _shoved him aside_ -"

"He did  _not_." Peggy cut in at this point, looking shocked; she had met Monroe, a quiet, soft-spoken, civil man, a sharp contrast to Alex himself,  _certainly_ not the type of man to call someone an arrogant little shit.

"That's  _exactly_ what happened. Thomas can confirm it." Alex gestured with his wine glass at the man, who had been passing by the office at that exact moment and happened to witness the event.

Jefferson looked shocked, almost as if snapped out of some kind of stupor, and it was only after he began to speak that Alex realized that he had called him Thomas in a non-sarcastic way for the first time in his life.

"It happened. I saw it," Jefferson said, putting down his utensils. "And then Lee didn't know what to say, so he cussed Monroe out like he had Alexander-"

"-but then James Madison came in and he was recording the whole thing, and then he threatened to send it to President Washington if Lee didn’t apologize!” Alex laughed as he recalled Madison's completely neutral expression as he was holding his phone, which had the Recording app open.

"The look on Lee's face was absolutely  _priceless,_ wasn't it, Alexander?"

"It was. You guys should have been there to see it."

That was twice that Jefferson had called Alex by his name instead of his last name. Had they ever called each other by their first names like that, just casually, as two friends having a conversation? Alex didn't know, but it felt good, finally making that jump from the weird limbo that they were in. So from that point Jefferson was Thomas, and he looked free and comfortable throughout the dinner, smiling and laughing and including himself in the discussion. And strangely, that made Alex like it even more.

 

_ThoMESS JefferSUCK: There's going to be a cabinet meeting today, I don't know if you got the e-mail from Washington_  


_To: ThoMESS JefferSUCK: Yeah, I got it, just didn't have the time to respond to it_

_ThoMESS JefferSUCK: Okay good_

_ThoMESS JefferSUCK: Can't wait to destroy you during our debate_

_To: ThoMESS JefferSUCK: HAHAHAHA it's cute that you think that you can even TRY to destroy me_

They took their customary seats at the cabinet meeting, President Washington at the head of the table.

"Secretary Jefferson, you have the floor, sir."

"Hamilton's new financial plan is  _terrible and unconstitutional_ ," Thomas began, holding up the notes that he had made beforehand. "The people will absolutely  _hate_ it. It's an infringement on our state rights."

"Sometimes, the Constitution's rules can be bent," Alex responded after Thomas had sat down. "And this is an example of that needing to be done. The federal government  _needs_ my plan."

The debate continued, the two men's voices escalating in volume and in intensity. But as Alex looked at Thomas's face, he could see much less anger present there, and much less anger present inside himself. This debate felt more like a debate and less like a battle, like banter with Laf or Herc or John or an intellectual conversation with Angelica. The force was still there, but the hatred wasn't, and Alex thought that that was as good as, or possibly even better than, their debates before Thomas had approached him on the last floor of the White House building. Certainly, it was better than the awkwardness that had faced them before Eliza's dinner.

_ Maybe Charlie was right. Maybe we  _ could _be friends._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who is Angelica's girlfriend? That is up to your individual interpretation (but I had Maria Reynolds in mind because I ship them shamelessly)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhh I can't believe we're on Chapter 6 already! Expect a sappy letter to you guys in the next and final chapter.  
> A panic attack again, you know the drill. [Brackets] and a summary in the end notes. Love you bunches <3

One Saturday afternoon, Alex was lying on his stomach on his couch, laptop in front of him but abandoned, reading texts from John about the newest rumors. Usually Charlie would be by his side, gently stroking his hair while looking through the Twitter, but Charlie was at one of his co-workers' houses for work purposes. He had been spending more time at work than usual these past few weeks with the explanation that he had a huge project that was taking up more time than those kinds of things usually did. Charlie joked that they had swapped roles, with Alex coming home early and Charlie staying late.

_Turtle Dude: Okay there's more embezzlement, only on a different occasion_

_Turtle Dude: Holy shit this guy is obsessed with embezzlement_

_Turtle Dude: And there's a thing about you rigging the election to get Burr out of the Senate and Philip Schuyler in but I'm pretty sure you were with Thomas then so he can vouch for you_

_Turtle Dude: And then there's a thing about you being behind a bank heist b/c you called in sick on the day of but you actually weren't_

Alex looked at the last message suspiciously.  _How could the person possibly know whether or not I was actually sick when I called in sick?_ He set his phone aside, picked up his laptop, and typed the URL of the Twitter into the address bar.

 _Alexander Hamilton was behind the bank heist on January 19th. He called in sick, according to sources, when he actually wasn't._ Below were screenshots of a conversation in which he confessed that he just needed a mental break.

 _I wouldn't say that to anyone. Why would I say that to anyone except for someone close to me?_ He tried to remember the date, remember the exact situation.

 _January 19th of this year._ The day before, he had had a major panic attack due to a bunch of stuff to do being piled on top of him with not much time to do it. It was an extra severe one, and he had decided that he couldn't come into work the next day. Fearing judgment, however, he had called in "regular sick," only telling one person that he'd had a panic attack.

He hadn't told Peggy or Eliza. He hadn't told Laf. He hadn't told Herc. He hadn't even told John, his best friend in the world.

He'd only told Charlie.

Alex's brown eyes widened as he stared at the screen without seeing it. Other puzzle pieces, pieces that had probably been there but that he had swept aside and tried not to look at, swirled around in his brain, arranging themselves into a picture that he didn't want to see.

Charlie spending more time at work, getting e-mails and texts from people that Alex didn't know. His attackers finding his Tumblr, which didn't have any personal info on it and that he only shared with his closest friends. The information that was needed to disprove their rumors, information that was so easily accessible before, disappearing and taking forever to find. On the very first day, the mysterious thing that Charlie had had to post, the thing that he had never told Alex the specifics of. And now, the mysterious account knowing a piece of information that only his boyfriend knew.

Alex's hands shook on the keyboard, palms sweating, entire body trembling so hard that his laptop almost fell off of the couch. He sat up, taking deep breaths, asking some quick grounding questions to calm his beating heart.

The garage door opened, but Alex continued to sit, hands clutching at each other so hard that they were bound to leave marks. Soon, Charlie came in, phone in one hand, and Alex could see that he had the Facebook Messenger app open. He locked his screen, sat down on the couch next to Alex, and hugged him from behind as he always did, face leaning in to bury itself into the skin of his shoulder. Usually this felt nice. This time, however, the thought of any kind of affection was soured, and Alex whirled around and stood up, face screwed in a mixture of fear and anger.

"Charlie, I think you're @exposeaham. You've been spending more time at work and away from me when you've  _never_ done that before, and today the account posted something that I only told you, and..."

Alex continued with only a vague idea of what he was saying, a hurricane with fear at the center instead of calm. During his speech, he avoided looking at Charlie, who was still sitting on the couch, instead choosing to focus on the wall behind him, fighting back the tears that were struggling out.

"...and I trust you and I love you, but I just wanted to talk to you about this, 'cause it's been worrying me, and...yeah."

After Alex finished, there was silence as he continued to stare at the wall, waiting for something that he didn't know. A completely rational explanation? A declaration of love? An apology? Charlie just standing up and wrapping his arms around him and calming him down, just like he used to when Alex was on the verge of falling apart?

But still there was silence, fear and tension and anxiety, the eye of the hurricane, filling up the room. And finally, Alex dared to look down at the face of his soulmate.

He wasn't looking sympathetic, or afraid, or offended, or angry.

He was smirking.

"Well?" Alex asked, trying to sound intimidating, but the word coming out as barely a squeak from his lips.

"'A bright young man,'" Charlie said, smirk still present on his face. "That's what you said they called you when you first started to make a name for yourself, right?"

"Yeah. That's what they said."

"They were right. Alexander Hamilton, smart as always. You should be a detective instead of a politician." Charlie stood up.

"It was me. I was the one behind the rumors."

Alex opened his mouth to speak, to scream, to sob, to do so, so many things. But Charlie continued, pacing around the room.

"I was working with my girlfriend, Emma Johnson.  _She_ was my soulmate, not you. How could you be  _anyone's_ soulmate? You were my enemy, all along."

"But you broke up.  _She_ was your enemy. That's what you said."

Charlie laughed. "That never happened.  _None_ of it. I was still dating her while I was getting close to you. All I needed you for was your secrets."

The realization of it all, the realization that the person he loved most had abandoned him and betrayed him and was his enemy, hit Alex like a bullet in the chest. He opened his mouth, trying again to say anything,  _anything_ , but nothing came out. All he could do was whisper, "Why?"

"I needed to get Emma in office," said Charlie. "She's the most skilled politician I know. She would have absolutely  _thrived_ as treasury secretary. She wouldn't have torn the country apart with her  _shitty policies_ and  _terrible political opinions._ "

That was a Jefferson-ism, from before they had become friends. It felt weird, surreal, to hear it coming from the mouth of Charlie, who had been the sweetest, softest person he had ever known in his life.

"George Washington had his eye on her, you know. He had noticed her skill. If you were impeached, which you  _would have been_ if this had gone on a bit longer, he would have definitely picked her to replace you."

Alex tried to scrub away his anxiety, cover it up by fanning the spark of anger inside of him into a fire. "You  _absolute steaming pile of horse shit._ "

"Hey, at least I'm not an arrogant immigrant whoreson trying to fuck up this country."

[His chest was hurting again, palms sweating, body growing weak and panicked and shaking. Quickly, he ran up the stairs to his and Charlie's room, opened the closet, and stood up on tiptoes to retrieve his Columbia University duffel bag from the top shelf. He opened it up and shoved his clothes into it haphazardly, without any regard to whether or not they would get wrinkled. With the duffel bag in his hands, he went into every room inside the house that he had once called his own, grabbing his things and throwing them inside. It was a mess, and he would have a hard time going through it to find his stuff, but he didn't care about that, didn't care about _anything_ other than the fact that he had been betrayed. The tears finally came when he was downstairs in the library, leaving behind the book that was technically his but that Charlie had given to him as a gift for his birthday about a year ago.

Alex went back into the living room, where Charlie was leaning against the wall looking bored, and shoved his laptop and charger into the already overflowing bag. Then, he grabbed his phone and opened his contacts.

He called John first, with the intent of asking him if he could move into his and Herc's house. John's phone went straight to voicemail, and it was only after he hung up that Alex remembered that he was at another scholarship contest, and Herc was with him for moral support. Laf was at a baseball game with Peggy, and Eliza was with them, so neither of them picked up the phone when Alex called.

 _Angelica, maybe?_ Saturdays usually found her safe at home, reading and relaxing from a long work week. Alex typed in her name before remembering that she was in his contacts as "Scary Schuyler" and had been for a long time. She, too, did not pick up when he called.  _With her girlfriend, probably, or at an unexpected work thing._ He was alone, all alone in this world, and in a rare instance in his life, he didn't know what to do. He felt dizzy, hurt, as if he was going to collapse and die any minute, and Charlie was just standing by and watching, leaning against the wall, not even  _trying_ to help.

 _Thomas Jefferson._ The realization came to Alex like a shock of lightning. Their relationship had progressed over the past couple of weeks or so into what Alex would call friendship, and he felt that Thomas would let him stay over at his house for at least one night. That would be long enough for his other friends to become available. He scrolled down through his contacts until he reached ThoMESS JefferSUCK (he still hadn't bothered to change it) and pressed the button to call him.

"Hello?" came the Virginian's voice. "What do you need, Alexander?"

"Hey so, uh, I discovered that the person behind the rumors was Charlie. My boyfriend." He barely managed to say it in a semi-loud tone; his chest was still tightening, heart rate quickening.

There was silence on the other end of the line until Thomas whispered, "I'm so sorry. Are you all right?"

"No. Anyway, I was going to ask you if I could stay at your house for a while?"

"Yeah, of course. You can stay as long as you need."

"Great. I'll be right over in my car."

"Alex, you don't sound like you're in a good mental state to be driving. I'll be over in an Uber, and then I can drive your car to my house. Does that sound good?"

"Yeah. Okay. I have my stuff ready."

"Okay, see you in a few. Bye." Thomas hung up with a  _click_.

Without looking at the man who had once been his, Alex grabbed his duffel bag and phone, snatched his car keys off of the hook where they always were, and left through the front door for the last time, slamming it as hard as he could and hearing it lock behind him. Alex unlocked his car and opened the backseat, unzipping his duffel bag once it was on the seat of the car. He took out a gray, overly fluffy blanket that Charlie had given him to use during his panic attacks, zipped it back up, and moved to the front seat, wrapping himself in its warmth. Usually, just staying there and snuggling the thing calmed him down in an instant. Now, however, it brought back the poisoned memories of his boyfriend and made his heart race faster and his chest squeeze tighter, so he threw it back behind him, sat down normally, closed his eyes, and tried his hardest to breathe.

"Alexander." He heard the voice, Thomas's voice, in a couple of minutes as the taller man opened the driver's seat and sat down. He opened his eyes.

"Do you have your keys?"

"Yeah. Here." Alex had been clutching the ring in his finger, and he tried to give it to Thomas, but ended up dropping it on the floor. Without commenting, Thomas picked it up, started the car, and began to drive.

"Name five things you can see," he said as he pulled out of the driveway.

"Um, the road, the dirt on the window, the lake that we're driving in the direction of, that mailbox, the dashboard of the car."

"Four things you can hear."

"Shitty pop music on the radio, my own voice, the engine running, that truck outside that just honked."

"Three things you can feel."

"The car seat, my clothes, the sweat on my palms." He wiped them with the tissues that he kept in the car door of the front passenger seat.

"Two things you can smell."

"The air freshener that John bought me that I keep inside my car, that weird disgusting smell, probably gasoline or something."

"One thing you can taste."

"My own saliva." The grounding questions worked, just like they had last time, and he found that he could breathe better by the time Thomas pulled into his garage.]

Alex had never been to Thomas's house. Whenever they met up outside of work, it was either in a public place or that one time at Eliza's dinner. He was not surprised to find that the inside was eclectic in an organized way, paintings and figurines and little bits and pieces of Thomas's personality finding their home on the walls and on the shelves.

Thomas led him to a room with purple bedspread and a darker purple blanket.

"This is the guest room," he said. "You can stay in here. I'll be in my bedroom if you need me."

"Okay," said Alex, watching Thomas smile, turn around, and leave.

Instantly, he regretted not asking the other man to stay; his hurricane of thoughts returned to him, filling up his body and messing with his mind. It would be absolutely  _ridiculous_ to call for Thomas just so he could keep him company, so Alex did the only thing that he knew how to do in stressful situations: he picked up his laptop, sat down on the bed, wrapped himself in the dark purple blanket (it wasn't as fluffy as Charlie's, but it was still soft and warm, and it had some sort of weird smell that helped calm him down), and wrote.

He didn't know what he was writing. Maybe it was another essay for his series with Jay and Madison. Maybe it was a new draft for a new bill that he wanted to get passed. Maybe it was a paper putting all the proof of his innocence into one source. Or maybe it was some sort of weird journal entry about his feelings. But all that mattered was that he was writing, and that the simple act of typing numbed his emotions to the point where they were unrecognizable.

Alex didn't know how much time had passed when he heard a voice from the doorway. "Alexander!"

He looked up; it was Thomas, leaning against the doorway, look of concern on his face.

"You've been writing for  _hours_ in that exact position. You need a break."

"Thomas, I'm fine. I was just-"

"Alex. No. It's not healthy. We can play a board game and eat dinner. How do you feel about Mexican?"

"I love Mexican."

"Good, 'cause Burr and I were at a restaurant yesterday, and I have leftovers. Let's go pick a board game."

Alex stood up, taking off the blanket, and Thomas led him to the living room, where board games were stacked on the shelves of a bookcase.

"Something calm," said Thomas. "Not too complicated rules. Monopoly?"

"The last time I played Monopoly with my friends," said Alex with a smile, "John and Laf wouldn't speak for two days, and Herc and I almost got into a fistfight."

Thomas laughed. "So, no Monopoly then. Madison and Monroe and I played it once, and we ended up trying to shove the pieces up each other's throats. That game gets  _intense._ "

The two continued to search the shelves. Eventually, Thomas pulled out a game called Small World. "We could play this. It's super fun and pretty easy to understand. I'll go set it up, you go get plates from the kitchen. Far left drawer, get the big ones and not the small ones."

Alex walked towards the kitchen, which was small, quaint, and filled with all sorts of different utensils, as if Thomas used it frequently, which, knowing him, he probably did. As he moved towards the far left drawer, he knocked his right wrist against a cabinet. Lifting it up instinctively to see if there was a bruise, he saw the name written on it in dark ink.  _Thomas Jefferson._

 _Thomas Jefferson_. The man he'd despised ever since they had first met. The man with his arrogance, his terrible political opinions, the way he strutted around and made fun of people and fought against him in debates.

 _Thomas Jefferson._ The man whom he would now call his friend. The man who had approached him and guided him through a panic attack, who had been painfully and uncharacteristically shy until Alex included him and was kind to him, who laughed and gestured with his wine glass and called him Alexander, who had let him into his house and told him to stay for as long as he needed.

 _Thomas Jefferson._ The man who had to be his soulmate, since Charlie was his enemy. The man with a head full of curls that he suddenly wanted to run his hands through, the man with full lips that made Alex wonder how they would feel on his own, the man with dark, beautiful skin, every inch of which Alex wanted to touch, to claim as his own. Where these desires were coming from, Alex didn't know, but he didn't especially care, because they made him warm inside, made his entire body soften just from thinking about the fact that Thomas Jefferson existed in the same universe, in the same city, in the same  _house_ as him.

"Alexander." And there he was now, practically running into the kitchen, worried look shining in his black eyes as he stood in front of Alex and placed his hands on his shoulders.

"Are you all right? Are you having a panic attack?" There it was again, the genuine concern evident on his face.  _This_ has  _to be my soulmate._

"Blink twice if you're having a panic attack." Alex stood tall, eyes wide open, not knowing how to proceed with the man that he now realized that he loved.

"Okay, you're fine. I'm just going to get the food from the fridge." Thomas moved his hands off of Alex's shoulders, ready to leave, and Alex, without thinking, wrapped his arms around him, cupping one hand around the back of his neck, and stood on his tiptoes to kiss him.

Alex leaned into the kiss instantly, eyes closed, savoring the softness and warmth of Thomas's lips on his. Thomas did not respond at first, body tense in Alex's arms, and Alex moved to pull away, but just as he did, Thomas began to kiss him back, responding with a passionate energy, running a hand through Alex's hair as he hummed softly in pleasure. They kissed for what was probably a minute or so, but with the power, the warmth, the excitement that Alex felt when they pulled away, it might as well have been half an hour or more.

"Thomas," said Alex, because it was the only thing that he could think to say that could express all of the feelings that were exploding inside of him.

"Alexander," Thomas said, understanding, reaching out his left hand, on the wrist of which was written  _Alexander Hamilton._ Alex took it with his right hand, on which was written  _Thomas Jefferson_ , wrists touching, pulses uniting into one. He leaned in to Thomas, setting his head on his shoulder, feeling Thomas's head on his, curls touching the top of his ear.

They walked to the living room, where Thomas had set up the game. At the entrance, they stopped, and Thomas whispered, "How long have you wanted to do that?"

"Like, five minutes," Alex whispered back, looking up so that he could look Thomas in the eyes. "I realized that I wanted to kiss you, and then I did."

"Always chasing what you want." Thomas took Alex's right hand with both of his and bent down so that they were face to face. "Thank you. I didn't know if I was ever going to work up the courage."

"Have you really wanted me for that long?"

"I met my enemy while in Paris," Thomas said, looking down at his hands. "She tried to ruin my political pursuits. I tried to tell myself that there was a mistake, that I had gotten two enemies instead of an enemy and a soulmate. I tried to tell myself that I didn't want you. I regret  _every single damn moment_ of that." He squeezed Alex's hand tighter and leaned in to kiss him on the forehead.

"I regret every single moment of hating you," Alex murmured into Thomas's neck and shoulders. "I wish this could have happened sooner."

They stayed in that position for another couple of minutes, not wanting to move, wanting to hold each other for as long as humanly possible. Finally, Thomas broke free.

"We need to eat," he said. "I'll go get the tacos and heat them up, you can read the rule-book and check out the pieces and stuff."

"We're still playing that?" Alex asked, bewildered.

"Of course. You need a distraction. Besides, I think you'll like it."

" _You're_ a distraction," Alex whined, leaning forward to wrap his arms around his lover's body. "And I like  _you_ even more."

Thomas laughed and returned the embrace. "I already set it up. We can distract each other later." They let go, and Thomas went to the kitchen while Alex sat down and began to attempt to read the rules, unable to focus on them because of how much he was thinking about Thomas.

Soon, he heard the man come in with a plate in each hand. "We can eat while we play, as long as you don't get anything on the game."

The two men played, and Alex understood the rules fairly quickly when he could apply them. Thomas, being the more experienced of the two, won by a large margin, and normally Alex would grumble, but in this circumstance, he honestly could not care less. After they cleaned up, Thomas playfully picked Alex up and carried him to the couch, stopping along the way at the bookshelf to get an old, worn copy of  _Les Miserables._

"French authors do no wrong," he instructed Alex when the latter looked at him warily, ready to laugh.

"Thomas, you love France too much."

"You can never love France too much."

"Yes, you can. Look at yourself."

"Oh, shut up, Just because you're an uncultured Europhobe-"

"I SPEAK FLUENT FRENCH!"

"-doesn't mean the rest of us are."

Alex laughed and leaned forward to kiss Thomas on the cheek. "You still love France too much."

"I love  _you_ too much."

He lay down on the couch, Alex on top of him, and set the book aside, letting Alex scoot forward and cuddle him, laying kisses all over his jawline and neck and shoulders, everywhere that he could, while Thomas took the hair tie out of Alex's hair so that he could run his hands through it freely. They stayed like that for quite a while, running their hands and lips along each other's skin, a certain kind of magic in their newly formed relationship. Finally, when both were tired and breathless, Alex moved to the bookshelf, picked out  _A Tale of Two Cities_ ("French authors, Alex, FRENCH AUTHORS!"), and resumed his spot on Thomas's body, but this time engrossed in the book. Thomas reached behind him, picked up  _Les Mis_ , and joined Alex in reading.

For about an hour, there was a soft stillness, with no motion other than the turning of pages and Thomas's free hand gently stroking Alex's hair. It was broken by a loud  _clunk,_ the source of which, as Thomas soon discovered, was Alex dropping his book on the floor as he fell asleep, arms hanging off of the side of the couch. Without disturbing his lover, Thomas leaned over and grabbed the book off the floor, placing a random piece of paper to mark Alex's place and setting it on the counter behind him, noticing as he did so that it was already half past ten. Thomas grabbed another piece of paper, marked his place in  _Les Mis,_ and set it on top of  _Tale_. Then, blanketed in love and calm and Alexander Hamilton, soft gentleness filling the room and compelling him to close his eyes, Thomas turned off the lamp, wrapped his arms around Alex, and fell asleep quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter summary: Alex realizes due to a variety of reasons that his boyfriend Charlie was the one behind the rumors. He leaves their house, panicking and a mess, and stays at Thomas's. He then realizes that Thomas is his soulmate, and they kiss, play a board game, and fall asleep together.  
> Charlie doesn't deserve dogs. Y'all were right.  
> This was the plan from the beginning, so I guess you could say that I was lying to all of you this whole time. It was a predictable twist, I know, especially 'cause this is a Jamilton fic. I hope you'll forgive me. I also hope you'll forgive me for not including smut, but I am 15 years old and have never written it in my life.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sappy letter in the end notes.  
> Also, I am considering doing a Jamilton Secret Santa gift exchange (I'm doing it on Tumblr as lukassjackolanterns bc I can't figure out how it works on here), so if you would be interested in participating in something like that, just tell me!

When Alex woke up the next morning, it was early, and Thomas was fast asleep, arms by his side as if they had been around him but had fallen loose during the night. He was snoring softly, eyes closed, long eyelashes softly touching the piece of skin above the cheekbone. Alex tried to shift as softly as possible so as not to wake his lover, but even as he accidentally moved Thomas's legs, he continued to sleep just as soundly.

_He must be a heavy sleeper._ Alex didn't know that about him, and as he continued to move out of the bed, he realized that there was more that he didn't know about Thomas Jefferson. _What's his favorite food? What does he do to celebrate special occasions? What are his bad habits, his pet peeves, his weird ticks, his deepest, darkest secrets?_ He had just scraped the surface of the man who was his soulmate, and there was so, so much more that he needed to find out.

_That's what this is for, though. That's why I'm staying at his house instead of in my bed with Charlie._

Alex made his way to the guest room where he was supposed to have been sleeping, changed out of his T-shirt and sweatpants into clean (albeit rumpled) clothes from his duffel bag, and checked his phone to find that he had at least one missed call from every one of his friends, as well as a series of texts that he wasn't even going to bother to read. He decided to respond to John first, opening his contact and pressing the button to call him.

"ALEX, OH MY GOD. FINALLY. WHY WEREN'T YOU RESPONDING TO MY TEXTS?"

Alex laughed. "Nice to talk to you too, John. Anyways, I would sit down."

"Oh, boy."

"Okay, so the bank heist thing relied on proof that I only told Charlie, and I realized that it was  _him_ who was the one behind the rumors. He's my enemy, not my soulmate."

"Oh my god," said John on the other end. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. I was on the verge of a panic attack when it happened, but I'm fine now. I'm at Thomas's house."

"Wait." He could hear a chair being pulled up, as if John were finally taking his advice and sitting down.

"So Charlie is your enemy, right? That means Thomas-"

"-is my soulmate. Yeah. I know." He remembered fondly the night before, with the kiss that caused fireworks inside him and the warm, sleepy haze that followed.

"And you're at his house.

"Yeah."

"And you didn't answer my texts."

"Uh-huh - wait, no. John, _no_. Nothing happened. We kissed and fell asleep and that's it."

He could hear giggling on the other end of the line. "Wait till the others hear about this."

"Oh, shut up."

"Anyway, what I was going to tell you. The Twitter account was deactivated last night for harassment and not following terms of service or whatever. And now people are calling it stupid and spreading the posts that you made proving that you're innocent. We won."

A huge weight was lifted off of Alex's chest. He breathed a long sigh of relief as he realized that his hell was over and that his heaven had begun. "Thank goodness."

"I know, right? I'm so glad it's over. _And_ you've found yourself a boyfriend. So I'd say it's a win-win situation."

"Uh-huh."

"Charlie is such a little shit, though. Do you want to get Laf and Herc and egg his house later?"

"Obviously. Bonus points for whoever hits him in his tiny little balls."

"Or his ugly face."

They continued exchanging insults for another couple of minutes until Alex realized that he had forgotten to shower and was forced to say goodbye to his friend. As he stood in the tiny bathtub, watching the water pour over his body, he couldn't help but wonder if Charlie was doing the same thing.

 

When Alex was done getting ready, dressed in clean clothes, hair wrapped in one of Thomas's towels, he noticed that a delicious smell was coming from the kitchen. He followed it and found Thomas, still dressed in the clothes from the day before that he had fallen asleep in, frying eggs on the stove.

"Hey, darling," he said, looking to the side as Alex stepped forward and leaned his head against his shoulder.

"Hi, love."

"How long have you been awake?"

"Half an hour, I think. I was getting cleaned up and calling John."

"Okay. I'm making eggs for myself, what do you want?"

"Do you have bacon?"

"Yeah, it's in the fridge. Second shelf from the top, still in its packaging. Do me a favor and get it, will you?"

"Sure." Alex began to make his way to the fridge, but as he was returning with the bacon, he heard Thomas speak again.

"Hey, Alex."

"What?"

"Are you sure you don't want  _ham?_ " Thomas was grinning and gesturing with his spatula.

"No, I want bac- _wait._ Thomas,  _no._ Get out."

"This is our house. You can't just kick me out."

"I can and I will."

"You wouldn't." Thomas stepped away from the eggs and leaned in to kiss him. Alex smiled briefly before returning it.

"I'm just joking," Alex murmured. "You can stay."

"And so can you." Thomas returned to his eggs, holding the bacon in one hand. "Hey, set the table and make coffee if you need it, okay?"

"Okay. What do you want to drink?"

"Just milk. I don't want coffee."

" _You don't want coffee?_ I'm so judging you right now."

"Dear god. Why are we dating again?"

"Good question."

Alex quickly found the drawer with the forks and knives and got out two of each to place on the table, instinctively placing the fork on the left and the knife on the right. Then, he got out one of the many colorful mugs (to Thomas's joy, the one he had chosen was Paris-themed), found the milk and creamer, and began to brew a cup of coffee as black as possible while still having some flavor.

Once both were done, they sat down at the table on opposite sides, legs interlocked as Thomas ate his eggs and Alex his bacon. After they were done and had put the dishes into the dishwasher, the two men moved to the living room, where Thomas sat on the couch, Alex on his lap, head on his shoulder and lips on his neck.

“Alexander,” Thomas murmured, wrapping his arms around him and leaning close to his ear.

“Yes, love?”

“You know you can stay for as long as you want?”

“Yeah, that’s what you said.”

Thomas leaned in closer to Alex, arms wrapped around him as tightly as possible, and it was only then that Alex realized that there was more than one meaning to his question.

“You know I mean it, right?”

“Yeah. Of course I know.”

 

Alexander Hamilton was sure of many, many things, but there were three that were the pillars of his personal life.

Number one: the name _Charles Morgryn_ was written on his left wrist, and the name Thomas Jefferson was written on his right.

Number two: He had once thought that Charlie was his soulmate, had once loved him, had once kissed him and touched him, and poured his soul, his secrets, his worries into him. But Charlie had been lying to him all along, had betrayed him, had been the person he hated instead of the person he loved. Sometimes Alex would stare down at his wrist and remember the times that they had shared, and he would feel a pang of regret and bitter sadness.

Number three: Thomas Jefferson understood him like no one, not even his closest friends, had ever had before. Sometimes he would catch Alex staring down at his wrist and bringing back bitter memories, so he would come forward and wrap his arms around his waist from behind, kissing Alex on the cheek or on his jaw, and stay there, making Alex feel warm and soft on both the inside and out. It was a beautiful feeling, one of the best that Alex could possibly experience.

Even thinking about him brought that feeling back, a mixture of desire and satisfaction and pure, pure bliss, so he scooted forward in bed, nuzzled his nose into Thomas Jefferson’s back, wrapped his arms around his body, and went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was shorter than I expected it to be, I'm sorry. I'm about to start two Jamilton one-shots, though (and two fics for other fandoms, one of which will be published in November), so expect those by the end of the month. One of them's gonna be NSFW ;)  
> Anyway, sappy note.  
> M'sieurs all of you!  
> Mon cheir TJM!  
> With a pen where you belong!  
> 'Ow you say, yes, ma'am!  
> We're finally at the end, we've had quite a run!  
> Hamilfans: we get the job done.  
> I really enjoyed writing this, and I enjoyed having actual fans who read my work online even more. Thank you, all of you, for supporting this little soulmate AU, for leaving kudos and subscribing and bookmarking and commenting things that leave me grinning like an idiot staring at my phone or computer. I honestly never realistically expected this to be as popular as it has become. I'm almost sad that I had to end this fic. I love all of you more than I can possibly say, and I look forward to meeting you again, to reading your work and watching you read mine. Thanks again <3


End file.
